The Meeting
by Lily Among the Thorns
Summary: Spying for the Order was not easy for Severus Snape to do. But this meeting would prove to be the most trying of all. HBP Spoilers


**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of this, but the scene itself. Severus and Albus, as well as any characters alluded to, are the property of JK Rowling. I'm not making any money, blah, blah, blah.

This is set during HBP, sometime between "Spinner's End" and the beginning of school. We'll say late August, for timing's sake. It's meant to explain the happenings near the end of HBP. Spoilers present, though that should be obvious.

Enjoy!

_-Lily Among the Thorns_

* * *

It took all his willpower, tonight, to report to Albus' office and make his statements. He did so after every encounter with his Death Eater "brethren." Tonight was merely part of the routine. It was not an easy thing to do, but he always accomplished his task. Leech information from the enemy and deliver it to his employer. His friend. He never failed, much as it may have hurt to succeed. But this particular meeting was the most painful of all.

The atmosphere was all too friendly. A small fire crackled in the hearth, lending heat to ward off the impending chill of a late summer's eve. Candles were lit all about the room, filling it with the comfortable aroma of smoke and melted wax, and Fawkes sang sweetly, his beautifully complex melody floating up from where he was perched on the floor below.

He could not bring himself to say it.

"What news do you have for me tonight, Severus?" inquired Albus, all business and no niceties, as if he were expecting the evening's report to be especially grave. But when he popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth, the Potions master knew that this could not be so. No man sensed the coming of his own death, did he?

Swallowing hard, Snape took a seat opposite the Headmaster, and passed a weary hand over his eyes. He had been in this position so many times before, and it was difficult to imagine that, in a matter of months, these conferences would cease for good. He breathed. "I was payed a call by the former Black sisters," he calmly announced. He _never_ referred to the two women as Malfoy and Lestrange. Part of him was still living in another time. The rest of him sometimes wished he had stayed there.

"Go on," Dumbledore prompted, apparently sensing that he would have to nudge the full story out of the younger man. Severus was never particularly forthcoming with specifics, but he was being unwontedly timid, this night.

With a sigh, he continued, "Narcissa came, seeking my aid." The statement required a world of explanation, he knew. _One step at a time, old chap..._

"Her son has been given a mission, which is to serve as his initiation into the... circle... and she was quite concerned that he would fail." The boy _would_ fail; that much was certain. As much like his father as he was, Draco was no killer. "She beseeched me to help him in whatever way I possibly could. I..." He broke off. This was too much.

A cup of tea materialized on the desk before him. Albus' doing, of course. He undoubtedly knew how much these chats – and the secrecy, and living in constant fear – took out of Severus. His words were gentle, but urgent. "Yes, Severus?"

"Bellatrix," he spat, " – ungrateful trollop that she is – had the nerve to question my loyalty. She challenged that I would not make the Unbreakable Vow to protect and aid Draco, regardless of the cost to myself..." He paused, taking a sip of tea to steady himself, the china cup and saucer trembling in his hands. "I, of course, could not deny her request. Not wishing to seem more suspicious than I was certain I did... I agreed. To aid the boy, keep him safe, and carry out his task, should he seem unable to complete it, himself." But he was avoiding the most important part.

The old man regarded him with anticipative blue eyes, sans their usual infuriating twinkle. He did not speak a word. No encouragement at all. Snape would have to do this entirely on his own.

"Sir," he began, awkwardly, "Draco Malfoy's task is..." The other man cut him off.

"... to kill me." What? How could he know? Save another source of information, it was impossible. "You realise, I assume, what you may have to do?"

Severus nodded.

"And you are willing?" The Headmaster's tone was desperate, like Cissy's had been, when she had come to him, begging for his support. It was peculiar, indeed.

He nodded, again. "I am _more_ than willing to sacrifice my life for yours." Albus was worth so much more to the world than the aging Potions professor; it was only natural for a man like him to be compliant.

But Dumbledore was shaking his head, smiling all too serenely, considering he had just been given a maximum of ten months to live. "No, dear Severus," he chortled amiably, "you will not give your life for anyone. I was asking whether or not you were willing to _take_ my life."

Snape rose immediately in protest. What was the old man thinking? How could he possibly forbid him to make that ultimate sacrifice for a cause he had already dedicated much of his life to? This was absolutely outrageous!

But Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him. He would hear no more of it. "Now," he declared in a strangely decisive tone, "I think it is time we discussed your promotion, Severus."


End file.
